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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346561">The New Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStranger13/pseuds/MagicalStranger13'>MagicalStranger13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Strange Magic (2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Human AU, parent &amp; child - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:09:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalStranger13/pseuds/MagicalStranger13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rock just wanted mommy to look like a Disney princess.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Butterfly Bog - Relationship, Family - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The New Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danaknowsitall/gifts">Danaknowsitall</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the wonderful Danaknowsitall for being so sweet and supportive the past few quarantined weeks!  This short piece of family fluff just randomly came to me and demanded that I write it, so I hope you love it! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>"I'm home!" Bog called out as he toed off his shoes and hung his coat on the rack, "...where is everybody?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"We're back here, Boggy!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The man followed the voice of his sister-in-law down the hall and around the corner to the kitchen, only to pause in the doorway at the scene that greeted him:</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His five-year-old son, Rock, was sitting at the table with his head down, looking miserable, while his similarly miserable-looking wife, Marianne, was perched on a chair by the sink with a towel around her neck. Her younger sister, Dawn, smiled at Bog in greeting while diligently combing and snipping away at Marianne’s wet hair...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>...which there seemed to be significantly <em>less </em>of since Bog had last seen, earlier this morning. There wasn’t a single brown strand from the lobes down!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Uh, what's goin' on?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Apparently," Marianne explained with a huff, "your <em>son</em> thought it would be a <em>great </em>idea to cut mommy's hair while she took a nap on the couch."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah, it's true," Dawn confirmed with a nod, trimming around her sister’s left ear, "he was doing some arts and crafts at the table while I was fixing lunch, and I guess at one point, while I had my back turned, he snuck into the living-room. I had no idea until I heard Marianne screaming; scared me half to death. I'm just trying to salvage what I can right now."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Brow furrowed sternly, Bog turned to his son.  This was certainly not normal behavior for the boy. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Rock, <em>why</em> would ye do somethin' like that?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The boy glanced up at his father with a pitiful expression, fully aware that he was in big trouble.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I jus' wanted mommy to look like Wuhpunzel."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Marianne sighed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Honey, Rapunzel has long,<em> blonde</em> hair."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Nuh-uh, not at the <em>end</em>!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"He means in Tangled," Dawn clarified, shaking some excess off the tips of her scissors, to which Marianne grumbled:</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You and that stupid Disney app."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hey, <em>you’re</em> the one who said one more episode of PAW Patrol, and the TV was going through the window.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Meanwhile, Bog gestured for Rock to follow him out of the kitchen.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Come on, son. We're gonna have a little talk about this."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rock dragged his bare feet over the carpet as he crossed the room to the couch where his father was waiting for him.  Instead of sitting down, the boy stood directly in front of Bog with his hands wringing and his chin practically touching his chest.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Do ye know why yer in trouble?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Why?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“B’cause I shouldn’t’ve cut Mommy’s hair?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, because what ye did was very <em>dangerous</em>.  Ye could’ve <em>hurt</em> yerself or even <em>mommy</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rock blinked up at his dad with wide, anxious eyes.  Obviously, he hadn’t considered <em>that</em> possibility.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ye dorn’t ever, an’ I mean <em>ever</em>, use yer scissors to cut anythin’ other than yer art paper.  Do ye understand me?  Only grown-ups like yer aunt Dawn can cut hair because they know how to do it <em>right</em>.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yessir.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"An' ye <em>especially</em> never do somethin' like that without askin' <em>permission</em> from me or yer mother first."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"...I thought mommy would <em>like</em> to be a Disney pwincess."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"<em>Nobody</em> likes it when ye do things to them without their permission, Rock; <em>nobody</em>.  An' besides, didn't ye ever notice that mommy <em>already</em> looked like a Disney princess?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Huh?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Her hair was long an' brown, like Belle from Beauty an' the Beast."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rock stared at his father, letting the image sink in before he appeared to come to a realization.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Oh!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Mommy<em> liked </em>the way she looked already. So what ye did wasn't nice, at all. Would ye want me to cut off all <em>yer</em> hair while yer sleepin'?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The boy flinched and covered his head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No, daddy!"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So, now ye understand?  Why it's so important to always ask me or yer mom fer permission?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yessir."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bog relaxed some and nodded towards the hallway.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Good.  Now, ye go back in there an’ tell mommy yer sorry, then ye can play in yer room, but there’ll be no dessert fer the rest o’ the week.  Understand?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, daddy.  ...Are you an’ mommy mad at me?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No, son,” Bog assured the five-year-old as he ruffled the boy’s own dark brown locks, “we’re not very <em>happy</em> with ye right now, because we<em> know</em> ye know better, but aunt Dawn will fix mommy's hair, an' if ye apologize an’ promise <em>not</em> to do somethin’ like that <em>ever</em> again, then mommy an’ I will feel much better, okay?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Cracking a tiny, relieved smile, Rock nodded.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Okay, daddy.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the boy dashed off to his mother and aunt, Bog shook his head with an indulgent chuckle.  Kids would be kids, but it sure was nice to have one that hated to disappoint his parents.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p>About fifteen minutes later, Bog was watching the news while the low, distant whir of his wife’s hairdryer droned on in the background.  When it finally shut off, he periodically shot a few glances towards the hall, awaiting the reveal.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In all honesty, he was pretty curious as to what Marianne would look like with super short hair.  Since the day they’d met, she’d always kept it long and in a Katniss Everdeen-esque French braid.  He understood that her sister had been sporting short, blonde curls since grade-school, and she looked just fine.  Of course, he’d think Marianne was gorgeous no matter what; a major change was just always intriguing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Soon, he heard footsteps approaching and he immediately switched off the TV to give the girls his undivided attention.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dawn emerged first, murmuring promises to her sister that it was fine and to hurry up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When Marianne eventually stepped into view, Bog froze in place.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Holy shit</em>!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her bangs were still familiarly parted on the left side, but Dawn had teased and heavily layered the remaining straight, chocolate brown tresses into a wind swept pixie-cut style that sort of flared out at the back of her neck. It framed her heart shaped face perfectly and made her signature purple eye-shadow and lipstick stand out even more, as well as her petite, toned body. Forget Disney princess, she looked like a punk <em>queen</em>!</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Stop touching it!” Dawn scolded, swatting at her sister's nervously brushing left hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can't help it!" Marianne said, raking her fingers twice more for good measure, "It’s so <em>weird</em>; my head feels so <em>light</em>!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dawn crossed her arms and admired her work.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’ll get used to it.  I’ll bet you might even <em>thank</em> Rock later on.  Short hair is <em>way</em> low maintenance; something I’m sure a mom, such as <em>yourself</em>, can appreciate.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Really?  ...Well, I do hate how long it took to dry before.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Trust me; and it looks <em>fabulous</em>!  Doesn’t it, Boggy?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When Bog didn’t answer right away, both women faced him only to see the man openly gawking at Marianne with an unreadable expression.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Bog?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Boggy?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"..."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As the silence ticked on, Marianne's face began to tighten with anger. Red bloomed in her cheeks and her whiskey eyes lit with fire, somehow making the fresh tips of her clipped hair seem to sharpen into deadly points.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>HOLY SHIT!!!</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dammit, Bog!" Marianne snarled, rolling up a sleeve, "You better hurry up and say it looks <em>great</em> or I <em>swear</em>,  I’m gonna punch your <em>face</em> in, you big-!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ye look <em>ho</em>t.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His wife paused, but her frown stayed in place.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Very</em> hot.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A beat, and then a quite mischievous grin spread across Marianne’s violet lips before she sauntered over to the couch and straddled her hungry husband's lap.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Aaaaaaad <em>that’s</em> my cue to <em>leave</em>!" Dawn announced, spinning on her heel and vanishing further into the house in frantic search of her nephew, "Come on, Rock!  Get your shoes on; we’re gonna go to my house and see Uncle Sunny!"  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>____________________</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As it turned out, <em>both</em> of Rock's parents ended up thanking him later on. </p>
  <p>;D</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments make writing miracles happen!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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